


First Date: Otaku Matchmaking

by XenophonSpeaks



Series: Erejean Week [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, anime convention fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XenophonSpeaks/pseuds/XenophonSpeaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jean struggles to come to terms with his inner weeb, Eren just wants a hot anime-loving boyfriend who isn't a total jackass (hint: Jean should really just confess already), and Erwin Smith is one hell of a butler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Date: Otaku Matchmaking

**Author's Note:**

> Day Two of Erejean Week: First Date
> 
> This is incredibly self-indulgent. I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> I used to work at anime conventions when I was younger, and the first one I ever went to featured an otaku dating panel. I have no recollection of how the dates were set up because I was too busy trying to flirt with the girl sitting next to me, so the system you'll find within is of my own design. All of the embarrassing weeb-phase moments and outfits/costumes you'll find within are inspired by real events and actual friends I've had over the years (special shout-out to my high school bros, RIP our dignity). 
> 
> It's my hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed living through most of what takes place, because let me tell you, being a complete fan-kid is super embarrassing and 110% worth it.

He wasn’t really sure why he was here. All around him people were decked out to the max, displaying their otaku status with pride. There was an InuYasha group cosplay a little ways ahead of them in line. Someone dressed as a giant Kirby was wandering the hallway aimlessly. A spot-on Howl and Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle were being repeatedly accosted for pictures as they attempted to navigate the crowded convention center. The very air around them was thick with the smell of two-day-old sweat and teenage hormones.

Jean sneered to no one in particular.

He was a bit more shy about his interests. He didn’t really want other people to know he was still that into anime. His weeaboo phase was a time of great, great shame. He had seen to it that very little evidence remained of that point in his life. Regrettably, his mother had a collection of photos from the year in high school he spent wearing around a Naruto headband, among other things. He had tried and failed to steal the evidence and burn it on no less than four separate occasions. His mom was sadly a very clever woman, though; she’d made copies, damn her.

However, while Jean wasn’t up for wearing his geek with pride, the same couldn’t really be said about the rest of his friends.

“I am going to _win this_ , just you wait,” Eren said eagerly as everyone waited outside the panel room. Jean moved forward as the queue slowly filed into the room, trying not to trip over someone cosplaying what he thought was probably a Naruto character as they ran past him.

He watched them run to the end of the hall and round the corner, arms thrown behind them and body bent forward.

Yeah. Definitely a Naruto cosplay.

He tuned back into Eren’s continued rambling. “I just have good luck, you know? Besides, who wouldn’t want to date me,” he said rather too loudly, Mikasa’s cat ear hat bobbing in agreement from beside him where she was decked out in fan gear from various shows. Jean noted that Armin looked quietly pained with secondhand embarrassment in the way that only a true friend could.

“Why the hell would you want to win a date with some random fucking person?” Jean returned equally loudly, glaring disdainfully at the people surrounding them. He saw a Hatsune Miku cosplayer a few feet away shuffle awkwardly and he gave a derisive snort; the quality of her cosplay was absolute shit, and even though Jean had never actually cosplayed himself, he was positive he could do a better job.

“Maybe because I want to meet someone _fun_ who also likes anime,” Eren tossed back, stepping closer. Jean had a feeling they were about to get into an argument. Considering how often that happened, he was probably a pretty good judge at this point. “Maybe because it would be nice to spend quality time with someone who doesn’t watch actual shit.”

“Hey, you can say whatever you want but Bleach is a great—“

“ _Maybe_ because it would also be nice to be around someone attractive and interesting who isn’t an asshole all the time.”

“What the fuck, I am very attractive thank you very much, many people want to date me, just ask Marco—“

“Marco is your best friend, you can’t believe everything he says to you.”

“What the fuck, Marco would _not_ lie to me about something like that. You wouldn’t, right?” Jean asked, turning to give Marco a pleading look. Marco’s only response was to give him a sweet smile. “Right! See, I told you. I’m definitely hot. And _I’m_ not a total loser weeb who is currently dressed like a shit version of that fucking guy from Attack on Titan.”

“Dude, he’s the coolest fucking character, how you dare talk bad about Captain Levi—“

“Hey Eren, can you help me with the straps on this?” Armin interrupted, attempting to diffuse the tension between them. Jean watched as Eren went over to help fuss over Armin’s outfit. Armin was dressed to the nines in lolita gear, the specific type of which Jean could never remember. He just knew it involved a lot of pink and frills. He looked really adorable but he couldn’t seem to keep the straps of his dress from falling down.

“Dude, you need to chill out,” Connie stage whispered, suddenly appearing on Jean’s right.

“Yeah, I mean, if you like Eren you need to just ask him out already and stop with this whole jealousy thing,” Sasha cut in from his left.

They were dressed as “the hot version” of Tweedledee and Tweedledum from Alice and Wonderland. It was so absolutely fitting that Jean couldn’t even find the words to describe it.

He shrugged them both off, turning to face away from the group as they finally neared the front of the line. “I am _not_ jealous. I’m just worried he’s going to do something stupid and get himself hurt. Besides, it’s not like anyone would actually find that asshole attractive anyway.”

The silence that followed this pronouncement seemed to be poignant with unsaid opinions on the matter, but everyone chose to keep their mouths shut as they began slowly filing into the room. The sign next to the door read “OTAKU MATCHMAKING! 18+” in bold red letters.

Every person entering the panel was stopped at the door to have their ID’s checked. Each was given a number written on their hand while also being handed a few pieces of paper. At the front of the room on a long panel table sat four large bags. The idea was to set up three types of couples: yaoi, yuri, and hetero. There were two bags for the hetero category, one for males and one for females. Each person wrote down the number on their hand on the little slips of paper and placed them into the bag(s) corresponding to their preference or gender.

He watched ahead of him with great irritation as Eren said some kind of stupid good luck chant as he placed his slip into the yaoi bag.

“Come on, you’re holding up the line,” Jean grumbled.

“Shut up, you’re just pissed I’m going to score a hot boyfriend and you’re going to be a lonely loser,” Eren hissed, bumping into Jean heavily as he stalked past to take a seat.

Jean sighed, writing down the number 64 and placing it in the bag labeled yaoi. He wasn’t expecting to actually win but the notion of landing a date when Eren didn’t and being able to rub it in his face was also incredibly tempting. He figured he might as well participate.

He went and sat down where their group had congregated in the room. Those of them who weren’t dressed up were simply sporting fan gear. Jean had refused to do either, wearing blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He wasn’t really into anime like they were, he told himself, ignoring the logical part of his brain that insisted that watching several episodes of anime a day for the last five or six years wasn’t exactly the behavior of a casual fan.

Once the panel room was packed to the absolute brim with a few hundred participants, the people running things explained how everything would work. Eighteen couples would be matched, six from each set, and treated to a lavish dinner and dating experience following the panel. No one would be obligated to follow through with the date if they became uncomfortable. However, those who stuck around would be treated to several courses of food from the expensive hotel restaurant where the convention was being held, and choosing not to participate would mean losing out on the free meal. If someone ended up getting their number picked twice (meaning if they had put a slip of paper into more than one bag) they would be asked to go with the date they were given first and someone else’s number would be drawn. Those who did have their number called were asked to come up to the front of the room to meet their date for the evening.

It all seemed pretty straightforward.

Only a few of their friends had actually placed numbers into the bags. Several of them were dating one another already so they obviously weren’t in need of the panel’s services. In fact the only people he could be certain were actually participating in the panel were himself, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and Marco.

“Alright! Let’s begin drawing numbers! We’ll start with the yuri bag,” the lead panelist began and Jean immediately tuned out, knowing his number wouldn’t be involved. After about ten minutes six couples stood up at the front of the room smiling awkwardly at one another and making small talk. Mikasa had seemingly struck out. “We’ll move on to the hetero(male) and hetero(female) bags next.”

Another ten minutes went by and six more couples stood up front. No one in their group had been picked yet, knocking Marco out of the running too. That left only three of them as contenders, Armin having put his name in both the hetero(male) bag and the yaoi one.

“I’m going to get it, I know I am,” he heard Eren mumble from where he sat two rows up, Mikasa murmuring something that sounded vaguely reassuring. Jean rolled his eyes. The odds of any of them getting picked were incredibly small.

“None of us have won anything yet. That just leaves you, Eren, and Armin, right?” Reiner asked from beside him. “What’s your number anyway?”

Jean silently held up his hand, displaying the 64 written there in black sharpie. Bertoldt and Annie leaned in curiously to have a look as well. Jean tried to avoid touching any of them for fear of being covered in glitter. Their rave outfits were pretty cool but also seemed to infect anyone who came too close with a dose of sparkles that wouldn’t come off for days.

“Now for the yaoi bag!” There was a good deal of cheering at that. He caught Annie clapping softly a few seats down and smiled despite himself. “Number 135 will be dining with… number 210!” Jean watched two blushing boys stumble toward the front of the room. Neither of them really looked his type, so he didn’t feel especially put out.

“Number 23 will be dining with… number 197!” Two more boys trudged up to the front of the room. Jean had to admit that Number 23 didn’t look half bad.

“Number 88 will be dining with… number 7!” Nope. Definitely wasn’t sad to be missing out on either of them.

“Number 57 will be dining with—“

“YES, that’s me!” Eren shouted, jumping up and pumping his fist, already heading to the front of the room. Jean sank further into his seat, and not because he was even slightly jealous.

“—Number 64!” No one stood up. The panelist looked around, confused. “Is there a number 64 in the audience?”

“Dude,” Reiner said, grabbing Jean’s arm and jostling him out of his moment of sulking. “That’s totally you! NUMBER 64 IS RIGHT HERE MA’AM!” Reiner hauled him up by the arm, holding his number forward for all to see, coating Jean with a thin layer of gold glitter in the process.

Eren’s eyes met his own from the front of the room. He suspected Eren’s horrified expression matched his own.

“Fuck,” Jean mumbled, stumbling out of the aisle and stomping to the front of the room to plant himself firmly next to Eren anyway. He crossed his arms and refused to dignify Eren with a look.

“No way,” he heard him murmur from beside him. “No fucking way. This is so unfair.”

“You shut the fuck up,” Jean hissed quietly, leaning toward him without actually looking at him. “The food is really good, ok. I’m staying. You can do whatever you want.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I was leaving,” he heard Eren hiss back just as quietly. “I was the one who wanted to do this in the first place. If anyone should leave, it’s you.”

“Well I am _not_ leaving so you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

“ _Fine_ , maybe I _will_ deal with it.”

“Good then.”

They shifted awkwardly from foot to foot until all the couples had been chosen and the rest of the room began to vacate. Armin and Mikasa looked concerned as they filed out of the room. Ymir gave him a thumbs up while Krista gave him a look of sympathy, both of them being stopped for pictures of their Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune cosplays as they tried to leave the room. Reiner couldn’t seem to stop laughing, Annie and Bertoldt having to practically carry him out the door. Sasha and Connie gave him a look of pure hatred that told Jean they were likely immensely jealous of the food he was about to eat. Marco simply gave them one of his angelic smiles and a little wave as he adjusted his pin-covered backpack and attempted to haul all of his vendor room purchases out of the room without anything getting crushed or broken.

It was only with herculean effort that Jean managed not to give them all the finger.

“Alright everyone, this way! We’ll take you to the room where we’ll be serving you for the next few hours,” one of the panelists was saying, couples slowly crowding after him. Jean finally looked over at Eren only to catch Eren also looking at him. They both glared resignedly, falling in line as well.

The group was led down the hall and to a flight of stairs, descending into a less-crowded hallway lined with plush carpet and nice furnishings. They stopped in front of a large door, where the panelist guy (who was dressed as a very well-done Sephiroth, Jean noted with approval) opened the door and ushered them in.

The room was softly lit, with eighteen small round tables scattered at intervals throughout the room. Music played quietly from speakers set up in one corner, giving the room just enough background noise to feel a little less awkward. Each table had a red table cloth and a small assortment of LED candles flickering with false light.

They grabbed the first table they could get to, both flopping down with an air usually affected by pouting children.

“I’m not backing out,” Jean said angrily, trying to ignore some of the lovey-dovey awkward smiles people were shooting each other throughout the room.

“Well neither am I,” Eren said decisively, hands crossed over his chest as he gazed petulantly at a spot on the wall.

“Here are your menus, sirs,” a tall and handsome man with brilliant blue eyes and fine blond hair said, startling them out of their mutual sulking and giving them each a subtle yet roguish smile. Jean immediately recognized his outfit as being Black Butler inspired, though he didn’t appear to be portraying any character in particular. “My name is Erwin, and I will be serving you this evening.”

Jean and Eren looked at each other, both flushing. Maybe this wouldn’t be too terrible after all, as long as they had this guy to look at all night.

“May I bring you something to drink?” he asked them politely, extending a gloved hand to gesture toward their menus. Jean nodded, trying not to stare at the muscles he could see rippling beneath the man’s uniform.

“I’ll just have water, thanks.”

“S-same,” Eren said, looking a little overwhelmed.

Jean could relate. This guy was really in character.

“Would you like lemon with that?”

They both nodded mutely, watching as the man placed his hand over his chest, bowing regally before walking away. Jean didn’t have to look at Eren to know they were both eagerly watching his retreating backside.

“Ok, so,” Jean said, waiting till Erwin was out of earshot, “this could definitely be worse.”

“No shit. That guy is hot,” Eren agreed. “Too bad I’m not dining with him instead of the barnyards finest.”

Jean turned his nose up but decided to let the comment slide. “It’s kind of fun to have him serve us, though. He’s so in character, it’s really well done.”

“Yeah, I recognized the Black Butler bit right away. I don’t remember his character, though.”

“Pretty sure it’s not meant to be an exact cosplay of someone. More like an OC, maybe,” Jean thought aloud, pausing as he saw Erwin returning with their drinks on a silver tray. “I’m not going to complain about that though. This is better than the real deal.”

Eren hummed his ascent.

“Two waters with lemon for the gentlemen,” Erwin said, gracefully placing a glass in front of both of them. “Are you ready to order?”

“Uh,” said Jean eloquently, realizing they had been so focused on their butler eye-candy that they hadn’t even looked over the menu yet.

“Can we have a few more minutes?” Eren asked sweetly, looking up at Erwin through his long lashes. “I’m usually really good at deciding what I want,” he finished, eyeing Erwin openly.

Jean inwardly cursed, trying not to feel stung. Seemed like Eren had recovered from being awestruck in a spectacular fashion.

“Of course, sirs. Simply signal for me when you are ready.”

Eren nodded, giving him a winsome smile.

“Stop that,” Jean hissed as Erwin walked away. “You can’t flirt with the butler guy.”

“Why the hell not,” Eren hissed back, leaning forward across the table. “Erwin is hot as hell.”

“Because it’s rude,” Jean countered.

“How the hell is it rude?”

“Because-- because you’re on a date with _me_ right now,” Jean finished lamely, flipping through the menu in earnest and attempting to will away the flush he could feel creeping up his neck.

“Fine,” Eren said blandly, looking over his menu as well. Jean tried not to feel like too much of an asshole. If Eren wanted to flirt then it really wasn’t his business, he supposed, but if you’re on a date with a guy then it’s rude to flirt with another guy, right?

Jean hadn’t exactly been on too many dates, but he felt like his logic was fairly sound. Even for a sort of fake date like this one. Besides, Jean could probably win the guy over better than Eren could any day.

Jean paused, a smirk working its way across his face.

It occurred to him that he had once heard it was best to fight fire with fire.

After perusing the menu for a few more minutes they both decided they were ready to order. Jean turned to wave at Erwin, giving him his trademark crooked smile that Jean _knew_ was attractive because several women had asked him out as a result of his using it. It just so happened that Jean wasn’t especially interested in women, but still.

“I was just wondering,” Jean said, leaning toward Erwin a little and turning his menu toward him. “Is there anything in particular you would recommend? I’m pretty hungry, so something large and juicy would be great.”

Across from him, Eren’s expression darkened. Jean gave himself an inward high five.

“Of course, sir,” Erwin said, giving him a look that said he probably knew what Jean was up to and was more than happy to play along. “If large and juicy is what you’re after, I would recommend the house sirloin steak.” He leaned down a little too close to be casual, pointing at the option on the menu. “The taste is most… exquisite.”

Jean gave him a smouldering look. “I’d like mine medium rare, then.”

“Certainly, sir. And what would you like?” Erwin asked, straightening up and turning to face Eren again.

Eren started, looking like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Probably thinking something dirty, Jean thought, watching the way Eren’s face did it’s best to match the color of the table cloth.

“I’ll, um, have the same thing he’s having,” Eren said, not looking anyone in the eye. “Well done, though. Please,” he added as an afterthought.

“Wonderful. I’ll place your orders immediately. In the meantime, we have house salads we’ll be bringing to all of our guests,” he said, gesturing to the room at large, “as well as split pea soup and appetizer of garlic bread. Please enjoy,” he finished, giving Jean an obvious wink as he turned to walk away.

Once Erwin turned to walk away, Jean faced Eren, giving him a smug look.

“Ok, _fine_ , I won’t flirt with him if you won’t flirt with him,” Eren huffed, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms.

“It’s not very fun, is it?” Jean gloated.

“No,” Eren agreed quietly.

Even if the meal was technically free, Jean intended to leave Erwin a generous tip.

A few minutes later, Erwin returned briefly with a tray of bread. They both dug in silently, grateful for the distraction.

After a while it became clear that Eren had something to say. He stared at Jean with a frustrated expression, munching on bread thoughtfully as he did so.

Jean raised his eyebrow but said nothing.

“Seriously, like, why are you even here? You don’t even like anime,” Eren finally asked, crumbs cascading down the front of his cosplay and across the table. Jean took extra care not to stoop to his level and do the same.

“I do like anime.”

“Barely. You don’t even look like you belong here.” He gave Jean’s outfit a skeptical look, which Jean felt was entirely unfair because he might not be dressed super otaku but he looked _good_ in this outfit, dammit. His pants hugged his ass just right. He knew. He’d checked.

“Just because I don’t want to cosplay or wear a bunch of expensive bullshit around doesn’t mean I don’t like anime,” Jean countered, taking a long gulp of water. “I just don’t really like advertising it, I guess.”

He could feel Eren scrutinizing him. “And why not?”

“Why do you care?”

It was an obvious redirection tactic but Eren seemed to take the bait. “It’s just weird, is all. When you’re at a con… I don’t know. It’s kind of nice that people dress the way they do here. You can tell what someone is into just by looking at them, you know?”

Jean considered this. He supposed that was a valid point.

“Example: You claim to like anime, but I don’t even know what kind of anime you like or what you’ve seen. Besides Bleach, obviously, which is complete shit,” Eren said.

This lead to an intensely heated discussion over so many different series, they were still on the same topic by the time they’d finished with both the salad and the soup course.

“Ok but the first season of Madoka was pretty much a masterpiece and if you don’t agree that it adds something to the magical girl genre then you’re a fucking idiot and I can’t save you,” Jean finished animatedly, leaning back in his chair with a huff.

“Jean,” Eren said, bewildered, watching in awe as Erwin returned to lay their steaks on the table, “I’m pretty sure you’ve seen more anime than I have.”

Jean kicked Eren sharply under the table, glaring at him before giving Erwin a panicked smile.

“Is there anything else I can get for you, sirs?” Erwin asked politely, ignoring their conversation entirely. They both shook their heads, watching as he bowed. “Then please enjoy your dinner.”

“Why in the hell do you not want people to know you’re into anime?” Eren asked exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair before he remembered he was wearing a wig. He rubbed at his shin ruefully, pulling the wig off to set it on the table. “Like seriously, he’s cosplaying for fucks sake, he doesn’t give a shit. Literally _no one at this convention_ gives a shit.”

Jean cut into his steak with a brooding expression but said nothing.

“Did you get bullied in high school or something?” Eren asked suddenly. His expression shifted into one of suppressed rage at Jean’s embarrassed look. “Did someone seriously fucking say something to you? Who was it? You’re from Trost, right?”

Jean looked at Eren in mild shock, a warm feeling flooding him as he realized Eren was worried about him. Judging by the look on Eren’s face, he was not only worried but apparently ready to kick someone’s ass.

“No one bullied me,” Jean said, trying to think of a way out of this that didn’t involve fully explaining himself. He could think of nothing.

Eren looked relieved but still tense with concern, putting down his silverware and leaning further towards Jean. “Then what is it then?”

Might as well accept his fate, Jean supposed, sighing deeply. He placed his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together in front of him seriously. “I sort of… you know how you guys joke about your weeb phase and how bad it was?”

Eren looked confused. “Yeah?”

“Let’s just say that all of the stories I’ve heard everyone tell pale in comparison to mine,” he let out in a rush.

There. He’d said it. Someone knew. Eren was probably the wrong person to tell considering that information would make fantastic blackmail material, but Jean didn’t see how he really could have avoided it forever anyway.

Eren gave him a blank stare. “How?”

Jean had a vivid flashback of running down the school hallway doing the Naruto run, wearing a hidden leaf headband to obscure one of his eyes like Kakashi. He also sported an orange beanie with fox ears, a red jacket like Edward Elric’s from Full Metal Alchemist, and was carrying around a large foam buster blade attached to his back.

“I legitimately don’t even know where to begin,” he confessed, dropping his head into his hands. He found himself spewing everything he could remember about his most embarrassing high school moments, including the time he did an assignment detailing what he wanted to do for his future career, wherein he described with great detail how his dream job was to someday be Hokage of the village.

Once he ran out of steam the both of them sat there silently, eyeing one another. Abruptly, so much so that Jean had no time to react, Eren leapt up from his seat, reaching across the table to squeeze Jean’s face between his hands.

“Holy shit, Jean,” he said, hauling Jean halfway across the table. Jean tried with great difficulty not to fall directly into their food. “You were a complete Narutard. That is the cutest fucking thing,” he finished, pinching Jean’s cheeks and absolutely shaking with silent laughter.

“Ow, what the fuck,” Jean groused, slapping Eren’s hands away from his face as he dropped gracelessly back into his chair. “That hurt, you asshole. And fuck you, that was a serious thing for me. I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Eren sat back in his chair, head thrown back with laughter. He eventually managed to calm down, eventually shaking his head. “Yeah, right. I’m sure Marco knows.”

Jean rubbed at his face, glad that he could at least blame the red high on his cheeks on Eren’s abuse rather than his own embarrassed reaction to being called cute. Eren had only said that to be patronizing, he was sure.

That didn’t stop him from feeling flattered all the same.

“Marco does _not_ know that, actually,” he said quietly after a moment.

“Then why the hell would you tell me if it’s some big secret you haven’t even told your best friend?” Eren countered, clearly not buying it.

“I don’t know, maybe because I thought you might be a halfway decent person for once and not tell everyone my biggest secret?” He threw a breadcrumb at Eren indignantly. Not that it would make much of a difference, considering he was still sporting a small collection of them on his shirt. “Excuse me for thinking I could trust you with something important.”

He dug into his food with renewed vigor, stabbing at the steak a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary. He saw Eren picking at his food out of the corner of his eye but refused to say anything more.

The noise of the surrounding room returned to him; sounds of laughter, polite (and in some cases awkward) chatter, the clanking of silverware, and the vaguely romantic music carrying on gently in the background. Very suddenly Jean found himself regretting having chosen to sit through this date that wasn’t really a date at all. As much as he had tried to convince himself he was only after the food, he had to admit that a part of him had hoped this might turn into something real.

Glaring at his now empty plate as if it had personally offended him, Jean silently admitted to himself that maybe everyone else was right and he really had been jealous this whole time after all.

“Do you really trust me?” Eren asked suddenly.

Jean looked up at him, startled out of his own thoughts. He shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Then let me dress you up tomorrow,” Eren said, chomping down on his last piece of remaining steak decisively.

This was really not turning out at all how Jean had hoped.

“I don’t want to dress up or wear—“

“No,” Eren said sternly, still chewing. “Listen to me for a minute. No one gives a shit what you like here, and as you yourself have already pointed out, we _all_ went through a weeb phase in high school. If you don’t want dress up outside the con then that’s fine, I get it, but this is legitimately the only damn place where people _aren’t_ going to judge you for indulging in the shit you secretly like.”

It really wasn’t fair when Eren used logic on him. Armin was a bad influence, Jean decided.

“Plus,” he continued, “we have so much crap between all of our friends that you don’t even have to buy anything. Hell, I even brought another entire cosplay with me. We’re like the same size, you can borrow it.”

“Eren, I’m taller than you are.”

“Whatever. It’ll fit. That’s not even my point,” he said, putting his fork down and waving his hand around in the space between them. “My point is that you need to stop hiding shit about yourself. We’re your friends. If someone is going to judge you, it isn’t going to be us.”

Jean cast about silently for a good reason to refute this and couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t make him sound like a complete baby.

“Besides, when you’re not true to who you really are or, you know, what you really want, you miss out on stuff,” Eren finished, trying and failing to hide his face behind his glass of water as he glared a hole into the wall over Jean’s shoulder. Jean had the distinct impression Eren was referring to something very specific, and Jean’s intuition told him he had a feeling he knew what that topic was. The notion that Eren might be entertaining the idea made his too-full stomach start fluttering nervously.

“That’s pretty solid advice, I guess,” he finally said after a long moment, finding himself momentarily too shy to say anything else.

Eren looked frustrated. That was concerning, because Jean was at a complete loss as to what to say or do next. He suddenly slammed his empty water glass on the table, making Jean jump and tense for what he was pretty sure was about to be an argument or something.

“Look,” Eren said, leaning across the table. “How about this: If you dress up for the rest of the convention, I might be willing to allow you to take me out for another date.”

He was almost positive he’d heard that wrong. He replayed it in his head a few times but couldn’t quite make sense of it. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, feeling like a fish out of water.

“Are you saying that you’d be willing to go on another date with me? Like, a real date?” he finally blurted out, catching the attention of several other tables.

He saw Eren glance at their audience, his face reddening. “Not if you don’t prove to me you’re a real weeb, I won’t.”

Jean could think of few better reasons to throw away his dignity.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind dressing up a little,” he conceded, frowning. The way his face was flushed sort of ruined the stern effect he was going for.

Across from him, Eren smiled. He heard two girls at the table closest to theirs clap quietly.

Conventions could be worse, he supposed.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to be tumblr buddies? Come and say hello. xenophonspeaks.tumblr.com


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